| | As the son of a son of a sailor I went out on the sea for adventure
 
 Expanding the view
 Of the captain and crew
 Like a man just released from indenture
 
 As a dreamer of dreams and a traveling man
 I have chalked up many a mile
 
 Read dozens of books about heroes and crooks
 And I learned much from both of their styles
 
 Son of a son, son of a son
 Son of a son of a sailor
 
 Son of a gun, load the last ton
 One step ahead of the jailer
 
 Way in the near future
 Southeast of disorder
 
 You can shake the hand of the mango man
 As he greats you at the boarder
 
 And the lady she hails from Trinidad
 Island of the spices
 
 Salt for your meat, and cinnamon sweat
 And the rum is for all your good vices
 
 Haul the sheet in as we ride on the wind
 That our forefathers harnessed before us
 
 Hear the bells ring as the tide ringing sings
 It's the son of a gun of a chorus
 
 Where it all ends I can't fathom my friends
 If I knew I might drop out my anchor
 
 So I cruise along always searching for songs
 Not a lawyer, a thief or a banker
 
 But the son of a son, son of a son
 Son of a son of a sailor
 
 Son of a gun, load the last ton
 One step ahead of the jailer
 
 Son of a son, son of a son
 Son of a son of a sailor
 
 The sea's in my veins, my condition remains
 I'm just glad I don't live in a trailer
 | 
 |